Blacksmiths being the easiest building to find in towns made his search a simple task; all he did was follow the line of black smoke pushing against the skies. As he grew closer, the pangs and the clangor of steel resounded in his ears, tailed by the smell of wet coal and soot. A hut stained with darkened ash awaited beside an empty brick building, its colors washed from time and the rain. Inside, the flares of the furnace spilled outward, allowing glimpses of the man wielding the hammer from the sparks produced by his incessant slams.
“Hello?” Zayne called out from outside, “I-“
“We’re closed!” a loud, guttural voice bellowed, “Come back tomorrow.”
“I just wanted to get my weapons repaired,” Zayne pulled the scabbard off his blade, looking up with begging eyes, “Can I? Please?”
A hulking man rose from his chair. Stained from top to bottom with ash and soot, the man pulled his steel visor aside, revealing the massive bush under his jaw. His eyes burned from impatience, “Let me see.” Zayne drew his sword from the scabbard, allowing the light to splash its chipped edges, the once gleaming steel clouding from all the blood and gore it had seen. “It looks bad… But the steel here.” He tapped the surface, “high-quality steel. A mix, too.”
He picked up the sword and headed to his station, doing what the blacksmith did as Zayne studied his store in greater detail. A clean-looking shield glinted from the lick of flames sporting from his furnace, catching Zayne’s attention. “Hey, how much does one of the shields cost?” He asked as he brushed the steel surface with his palm.
“That one? 50 silvers.”
“50? Can you sell for lower?”
The blacksmith returned an annoyed grunt. Not going to happen, Zayne mused as he retreated from the shield. He missed having one in his arms. There was a sense of comfort he missed when he sparred with his friends, shield provided the protection he craved when his opponents had the strength to end the fight with one good hit. Orange bathed the shop as the sun reached the horizon, oozing from the still-open windows, telling the time of the day in its grandiose fashion. The flames roared to a halt, his blade looked new and shiny under the slight lighting when he returned it. “2 silvers for the sword, and the spear… it’s free. You don’t look rich, so I’ll help you out this time. But how did someone like you come across that sword?”
“It’s a gift,” Zayne sheathed his glinting sword, its edges sharp and clean, and his spear regained its sharpness. “From my friend. It’s a long story.”
“Make sure you don’t lose it, then.” He pulled the curtains down, allowing darkness to seep in, “Now, leave.”
###
[A monster gem is consumed, [Corrupted Merloc Queen], you gained 200 essences.]
200?
The queen’s gem tasted like rotten meat. Zayne sealed his mouth with his hands to prevent himself from vomiting, but the stench vanished once the gem squeezed through his gullet. He breathed in as much air as he could and then studied the next line of the message, hoping he’d see something different this time.
[You gained an essence gem! Green-Corrupted Merloc queen - grade 0, slot required: 1. +5 endurance, + 1 Par. Immunity, +5 brawn. Essence ability : (Passive)Quick healing - 1, increases regeneration of bodily wounds by 10%]
Insane… and Par.Immunity… That’s…
Par. Immunity; an uncommon trait, the abbreviation of Paralysis immunity. Frankly, the first uncommon trait he’d ever seen. At one point, it wouldn’t do much against most paralysis effects, but it would dampen their symptoms instead, which was better than nothing.
One green slot… I have just enough to open it.
Zayne reached into his core, spending no time to open another green slot while wincing at the price. He plugged the crevice inside his green tendrils shut with a green gem emitting the same queer haze from the gem. At first, he felt relief upon stuffing the hole shut, but his crumpled figure a few seconds later proved otherwise; the corrupted gem snagged his innards apart, its influence causing the surrounding lines to jitter and deflate.
[Corruption detected. Attempting to cleanse your core…]
Zayne’s heart skipped a few beats as he heaved on the rooftops, gasping for release from his throbbing chest. His vision ruddied as he strained his lower jaw to seal his overwhelming urge to scream, then it darkened to black, replacing the sight of Basin with another; a red-pristine gem held by multiple lines of darkened wax-like tendrils, each feeding it—or draining strength from it.
[Corruption purified. You gained 5 max mana.]
What?
CORE
Core.Level
5
To next level
350
Max. Essence
500
Race
Human
Mana
12/12
Essence
5
Class
-
SLOTS
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Required ess.
Open slots
Required ess.
Open slots
White
40
0/3
Red
200
0/1
Blue
200
0/1
Green
200
0/1
Violet
500
-
Black
1000
-
TRAITS
NAME
NAME
NAME
Brawn
+12
Endurance
+10
Magic
+3
Agility
+10
Zayne found the same spot atop a platform between buildings and used the idle time to rest. Night trailed the end of the sunset, and it’d only be a few hours before his key became usable once more. The calm breeze of wind pulled his eyes asleep, curtaining his exhausted self in its soothing chill. He needed sleep more than he expected.
The rowdy sounds of the masses snapped Zayne awake. Night painted the skies within the blink of an eye, faster than Zayne would’ve liked, judging from his sluggish chest craving for more sleep. He shook his sleep off with a light trod, descending back into Basin, and found a path toward the inn. Filtering through the dense pack of people, he pushed the doors to the sparrow inn and swerved right, finding the somewhat listless eyes of the siblings, each trying to shove off their lethargy.
“Zayne…” Gilbert’s weak voice reached him as he sat on an empty seat, “heh, you slept too? Look at your hair…”
Zayne brushed his hair with his hands, noting its disheveled state, “Yep. Once the breeze hits, my eyes just can’t stand staying awake anymore.”
Their conversations were constantly interrupted by lazy yawns as they waited for their food. And of course, no longer bound by the limitations of being unlicensed…
“Mead!” Gilbert rose his hands with glee. The granny simply sighed in response, but she gave up a smile in the end, caving to Gilbert’s request. “I’ll treat you all this time, think of it as a gift from me. You’ve all worked so hard.”
“Don’t order too much,” Wyne complained, but her eyes lost their feebleness upon the mention of mead. She’s curious about how it tastes too, I bet. Zayne himself had sneaked in a sip before; one of the perks of working in an inn, if he had to admit, the taste never quite grew on him. “Save some for new weapons and skill stones.”
Food healed their exhaustion and languor, and the mead popped their eyes wide open.
“They said there’s a popular dungeon for first-timers around here… I forgot its name, uh…” Oswul spoke up after finishing his meal while staring at his half-empty cup, “I’m thinking we’ll tackle that dungeon once we’re back together.”
“The misty tombs?” Zayne finished Gilbert’s sentence, “I heard about it before from another guy in the containment unit.”
“Then we’ll wait.” Wyne said, “It’s not like we’re in any hurry of clearing a dungeon so soon anyway. Our goal needs to be about strengthening what we have and diversifying our skill sets, then there are the tryouts to worry about…”
So much to do, so little time.
Now that he obtained a license, he wondered about the central continent, where the man named Mordred had asked him to go to. For what purpose Mordred thought of in mind for him he didn’t know, but no answers would come his way until he reached that place. However… the central continent was several times more perilous than here. Most adventurers roaming in that region reached B rank far before they stepped foot into Eleceed.
“Zayne?”
“Huh?”
Gilbert raised his sloshing cup for a toast, “Come.”
###
Their dinner was brief; Zayne had his mind on Eternity and the dungeon he’d face with the other gold-card adventurers come the morning, and the siblings appeared to be deep in thought. Silence weighed their dinner as they finished their meal in peace. They exchanged goodbyes and Zayne headed outside, right before a message appeared in his eyes:
[You can use the key of eternity.]
A message burned his eyes awake. It’s time.
The familiar scene of the four split paths returned. Stoned walls and dusty air permeated within, with the occasional ray of light shining the far distance. Air seemed to freeze around this spot. Zayne studied each path once more, noting their similarities, then pushed his way into the right one out of randomness. He reached for the clattering lantern on his hip and turned on the lights. White radiance pushed the darkness back while peering into the once-oppressive darkness, smiling from the slight victory and the newfound sense of ease.
The hall stretched into infinity. Zayne swore he’d walked through the same paths over and over again, from the repeating sets of paths and walls lining his path into nowhere. A few more minutes passed before he found the end of the corridor; a dark room stretching as wide as the size of multiple buildings with a singular ray of light casting from above, illuminating a chest.
A chest? Zayne leaned his way into the room, scrutinizing the misty darkness with his limited vision for any prideful assailant. Only black and mist surrounded the chest, no movements nor noises rang. He breathed a large breath when stepped onto a slight platform holding the chest in its center. Warm. The light cast a soothing ray of ease upon his strained self, washing away the unease and tension, basking him in a sense of comfort. He turned his lantern off; its radius paled to the source of light above, and he needed to save its charge for later.
Scrapes of leather against stone rasped when he decided to peruse the chest as he knelt. Stone chest? His eyes wandered on its cold, rigid exterior as he brushed the weathered dust from the slight crevices present from its carvings. No holes other than a tiny spot on its front existed, large enough for a finger to lodge into and pull. Zayne took no risks; he stepped a few paces behind and abused his spear’s reach to leverage its handle open, rewarded by a scarlet glow lasting less than a few seconds before it faded.
His eyes peeked into the contents as he leaned forward. Inside, a gem the size of a throwing rock buzzed with an unknown strength.
[Blue gem of potential.]
Blue… gem? Of potential?
No other descriptions appeared; only a gem and whistling wind rested inside the stone chest.
Yet, the instant he stored the large gem in his satchel, the tower shuddered as if it was convulsing. The cracking of rocks pummeled his hearing with their rasps, smothered by the crushing volume. The sheathing voice of blades punched through once in a while, loud enough for his ears to register, but too low of a volume for him to pinpoint its source. An enemy.
Zayne snapped his head to his back; a blade the size of a human’s torso pierced through the darkness, roaring its glinting skin at his eyes. With a kick and a turn, it punched a hole across his cheek, nigh ripping his head as the blade caromed against the stone floor along with its assailant. A knight standing twice his height landed athwart his position, poising its long, yet gaunt blade. Dark, shimmering steel wrapped its entire body, a long cape whirled with the roaring gust and the constant vibrations from the tower itself. It didn’t take a second before Zayne activated adrenaline; this foe outmatched the other knights he’d ever fought by its sheer presence alone.
Air twisted along its jab. Zayne curled his head sideways, wincing against the sharp jab, tasting death on his lips. Slight openings appeared near its neck ad underarms, but it knew better than to stay in the same position and let him finish it off. With a swing of its arm, it caught Zayne by his arm and flung him against the ground. “GAHHH!” His screams drowned the ripped muscles and fractured bones from the throw, echoing against the scuttling wind. It raised its blade, metal rasping against metal, then slammed the point resolutely to where Zayne’s chest once lay. He twirled his entire torso enough to avoid a death-inducing thrust, then propelled himself up with his trembling limbs. Pain fueled his glare when the knight pulled its blade out of the crag floor. Its ability to use its other arm caught Zayne off-guard, and he paid a significant price for it.
The tower’s virulent trembles halted as air stilled in his sights. The knight lurched to his left, then bounded in the opposite direction the moment Zayne’s eyes locked onto it. Its figure shifted to a blur as it closed their distance, a rush of air crashed against his skin as its blade found air. Not yet, it’s other arm-
Pulling his body back, he dodged its incoming grab, then performed a tumultuous stroke to its underarms, savoring the feeling of his blade cutting flesh under it. Then another blade zipped above his ducked figure as he rotated his way around its axis, only to be slammed by its rigid fist near the end of his step. His body tumbled, rocks punching their coarse surface into his armor; had he been armorless, he’d be bleeding from the gashes made by the friction.